


104

by browney3dgirl6



Series: Touch [2]
Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Tattoos, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:20:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25998163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/browney3dgirl6/pseuds/browney3dgirl6
Summary: In the months after Belize, Deran and Adrian contemplate what they want from each other and how much has changed, while nothing has really changed at all; except for some new ink, that is.
Relationships: Deran Cody & Adrian Dolan, Deran Cody/Adrian Dolan
Series: Touch [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1886974
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22
Collections: Animal Kingdom ▶ Deran Cody / Adrian Dolan





	104

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wanted to include this with the previous work but it needed it's own story (: I had fun with this one and the research proved to be interesting. I might have a third one in me for this series, we'll see...enjoy!

_140_

**-Adrian-**

A few months had passed since Belize and Adrian was still feeling an emptiness in the bed beside him.

He longed to roll over and find that blonde mop of hair covering the other mans face. Then he could secretly push the long locks back and admire what had become his over the past weeks.

It took almost two weeks of Adrian doing this without startling Deran awake in a panic.

He remembered he wasn’t supposed to make gentle motions because they ‘tickled’, but he couldn’t help himself; he wanted Deran to feel _everything_ ; every touch, no matter how subtle.

Deran would know love with every embrace, Adrian would make sure of that.

Adrian had hoped things would be simpler between them after that trip, but they weren’t -- they never were. For them it was always one step forward, three steps back.

It’s not that they stopped seeing each other, it was _how_ they saw each other; Deran pretended it never happened, and Adrian began to think he dreamt the entire trip up.

It was a dream Adrian could’ve lived in forever, if Deran had let them that is.

He went back to _her_ though, always _her_ ; it made Adrian nauseous.

He grabbed for his phone on the bedside table, scrolling for messages from his favorite contact, but there were none to be found.

He ignored the ones from Jess and his roommate Chad, as well as the endless emails from surfing competitions and sponsors.

Adrian threw his phone to the unoccupied space beside him and exhaled loudly, today wasn’t looking any better than yesterday.

_Time to get this shitty day in gear._

Adrian stumbled into the kitchen for his morning cup of Joe; he leaned against the countertops, taking sips of coffee between thoughts of Deran.

If he wanted to accomplish anything today, he would have to avoid his phone.

It was _all_ too easy to scroll to that DC contact with a surfboard beside it; he would use other symbols if Deran weren’t afraid of their connotation.   
  


Adrian had seen his contact info in Deran’s phone the _one_ time he left it open--Adrian Dolan--that was it, no nickname, no abbreviation, and definitely _no_ cute icons.

He shouldn’t have expected there to be but, it still hurt anyway.

He decided work would keep him busy, so he dressed in his favorite charcoal tank, paired with jeans, and headed to Tao’s.

On his drive there he had images of Deran walking in and— _STOP_ \--, he couldn’t keep doing this to himself.

Shaking his head to clear it, he put more pressure on the gas peddle as he pushed Deran from his mind; he could do this.

**-Deran-**

_He woke to calloused fingers brushing his locks back from his face, tucking them behind his ears. The rough fingers moved to run circles on his temple, lulling him back to sleep._

When he woke again, he was alone just like every morning since; it was _only_ a dream.

_Fuck._

That was the only way he remembered Belize, because if it was real, he would have to admit his truth, _their_ truth.

He was fucked up and he knew it, but what could he do?

It wasn’t like Adrian cared anyway, at least, that’s what he told himself.

Deran rolled to his back and stared at the textured ceiling seeing nothing but dark blues and freckles as his mind wandered.

His thighs ached with desire and his lips were begging for contact.

_Dammit._ He was hard just from the memories, the ones he’d tried to push far, far away.

He’d been just as unlucky this morning as the last several, and he only had himself to blame.

He dragged himself out of bed and headed straight for the shower turning it all the way to blue, _yeah that was better,_ he thought confidently.

Deran didn’t remember how he ended up at his place last night, only that he’d been doing it a lot recently.

The apartment was a shithole and he didn’t do much—or any—cleaning to improve it. It wasn’t his anyway, not really.

It was another form of control from Smurf, he just hadn’t figured out how yet.

After his somewhat successful shower—not really—he sauntered over to the nightstand, reaching for his phone—Smurf, Smurf, Craig, Craig, Tinder, Baz, Craig _again_ —he chucked his phone to the floor without further scrolling.

Two clicks of the finger and he would find his favorite contact at the top, just where he should be. He wanted to put _just_ the letter _A_ to reserve that spot permanently, but that would be too obvious, same reason he never used those stupid fucking emojis everyone was obsessed with.

Adrian had shown Deran his name on his phone before; his initials with some surfer dude next to it. He’d laughed at it and told Adrian how lame it was, when really, he wanted to add a heart and a picture of them together.

_Now who was the lame one?_

He raked a hand through his mostly dry hair now and pulled a white tee over his head, following it with some black jeans, rolling up the bottoms slightly.

Surfing was closer and what he craved, but he would have to deal with Smurf first.

Maybe after he could let his mind wander, other parts of him already were.

**-Adrian-**

Adrian emerged from the shower, toweling his body as he shook residual water from his hair.

It was sometime after ten now, and all he wanted was to light a joint and relax.

He ended up working late helping Tao with some last-minute fixes and he was beat. The only positive being it kept him busy and focused on the task…no stray thoughts of a blonde-haired blue-eyed boy.

He dressed in some jersey shorts and a grey shirt, and then made his way to the kitchen.

The Hungry-Man tv dinner he pulled from the freezer looked all but appetizing, but he was in no mood to cook. He popped it into the microwave and began to punch in numbers from the back of the box. His finger hovered over the start button, but he stopped himself. He heard a familiar rap rap on the door, but it couldn’t be—could it?

Deran had been using his window as a from of entry for weeks—Adrian had let him—no reason for him to change it up suddenly.

Installing better locks had crossed his mind, only he couldn’t do it; it was too much to shut Deran out, even if his gut told him otherwise.

He finally got up the nerve to approach the front door; cautiously, it _was_ late after all.

To his surprise, the window intruder stood on the porch, face twisted and looking downward.

_Dammit_ , this is what Adrian had been lusting for _all_ day, but this wasn’t the Deran he was hoping for. No, he wanted the one who broke into his room late at night, fucked him tight, and left before he woke in the morning.

_That_ Deran was easy to please, and about all he had energy for this moment. Instead the brooding/kicked puppy Deran had shown up. _Great._

He gets the irony, Deran was rubbing off on him…in more than one way that is.

Nothing was _ever_ simple about his Deran.

He gave a slight sigh and approached the door, closer now, trying to catch the other mans gaze.

Deran looked up, blue eyes glistening against the evening sky.

“Hey,” Adrian left it short, not giving Deran much to go off.

“Can I hang here for a while?”

His appearance _reeked_ of Smurf and Adrian refrained from wrapping him in his arms as he opened the door.

“Yea, sure.”

Deran stepped in and headed for the lumpy couch, rearranging pillows as he went.

“You hungry, I could order pizza?” No way was he dealing with sulky Deran _and_ suffering through a shitty meal.

“Sounds cool, I’m starved.”  
Adrian gave a little smile in acknowledgement and went to call the local pizzeria.

He returned to find Deran sprawled out the length of the couch, completely zoned out.

Adrian moved quickly so he couldn’t contemplate his next decision. He reached the edge of the couch, and picked Deran’s Van’s up as he sat down, placing the shoes on his lap while resting his hands on top of them.

Deran met his eyes while playing with the hem of his shirt, lifting it just enough for Adrian to see his golden skin, not that he was looking-of course.

Deran could sit there in silence for years, always leaving Adrian to initiate conversation.

Fine, he’ll bite.

“Smurf or your brothers?” No sense in beating around the bush.

Deran gave him _that_ look, the one that says, ‘if _anyone_ else asked me that I’d fucking kill them.’

Adrian waited; he’d learned a sense of patience over the years thanks to Deran.

He could hear the clock tick in the other room as the minutes passed, their eye contact never shifting.

“I wish we were there, Belize, you know…”

Well, that was _not_ what Adrian expected him to confess.

He sat with Deran’s words for a moment, making sure they weren’t a test or something.

When he decided they were true he gave Deran’s calves a squeeze and answered, “Me too Der, me too.”

The doorbell rang moments later, _saved by the bell_ , though which one of them he wasn’t sure.

They ate their pizza in silence while the tv provided background noise. Deran hadn’t spoke again, but he tossed money at him for the delivery boy; Adrian accepted it, not wanting to set him off.

“I gotta piss,” Deran proclaimed suddenly and stood to make his way to the bathroom.

Adrian decided to do some cleanup, tossing the plates in the sink, and placing the leftover pizza in the fridge. He never heard Deran come back out. Maybe he left, he thought dimly.

Adrian poked his head out of the kitchen but didn’t spot him, so he headed towards the bathroom halting when he saw Deran on _his_ bed, laying on his back.

Adrian laid down next to him on his side, careful not to brush him.

This was the longest time they’d been together _just being_ , not groping each other since Belize. Some nights they would lay there for hours like this, just breathing each other in.

Adrian’s fingers itched for contact, he could never get enough of caressing Deran’s creamy skin, and he hoped he wouldn’t have to.

**-Deran-**

He could feel the electricity between them, pulling them closer and closer.

His insides begged for Adrian’s touch, but he didn’t know how to ask; vile hands were the only ones placed upon him, time after time.

The moisture was beginning to swell in his eyes, and he blinked back tears. He would _not_ shed a tear because of her, he refused.

Gradually, he removed a hand from behind his head and slid it to the one Adrian wasn’t using to support his own.

Adrian welcomed the contact and let Deran draw his hand toward the base of his white tee. He settled Adrian’s palm so his fingertips barely skimmed his warm flesh.

Instantly relaxing, Deran closed his blues and breathed in Adrian’s sweet scent, now that he hovered above him.

He felt Adrian’s rough, yet soft thumb trail patterns down his happy trail, stopping just above his belt buckle. Deran inhaled deeply at the contact as his body demanded more.

He grabbed at Adrian’s hand causing him to hesitate until Deran placed it further up his chest.

Adrian repeated similar motions there, deepening the pressure, and Deran relaxed even more; her imprint was slowly fading, replaced by Adrian’s once again.

Adrian withdrew his hand abruptly sending Deran into and immediate panic; it was quickly diminished as Adrian pulled the bottom of Deran’s shirt up and over his head.

Deran had no time to question it; Adrian was making his way along his frame, tracing firm lines all along his markings. There was one in particular Adrian obsessed over, always giving it more attention than the others.

Deran knew what he was going to ask before he spoke it; he’d been asking the same question since Deran got the ink after Belize.

“Will you _just_ tell me, _please?_ ”

Adrian was practically begging, something Deran usually didn’t deny him.

He got the numbers for Adrian, in a way at least. But he wasn’t sure if telling him _why_ would cross a line they both _desperately_ tried not to.

Deran came back from his memories only to be pulled further into Adrian’s touch.

His eyes fluttered closed again and his knuckles dug into the silk sheets beneath them. It felt as though Adrian was painting the numbers on one by one, repeatedly, digging his fingers in causing Deran’s side to tremble. His touch was _so_ intense he could barely breathe.

“ _STOP_ ” he managed to choke out.

Adrian did so immediately; he sat there waiting for Deran to meet his gaze. Once he had, Adrian spoke softly, “I always ask, but you _never_ answer me.”

Deran didn’t answer most of his questions and Adrian usually gave up after a time or two but apparently this one wasn’t going away.

His ribs still burned from the tracing, the good kind, the kind he hoped would never fade.

**Adrian:**

Deran began collecting tattoos when they were just teenagers and they had always fascinated Adrian. He never cared much what they meant to Deran, he figured they were an act of rebelliousness or to piss Smurf off somehow.

But this _one_ , this one was different, and he couldn’t stop asking about it no matter how many times Deran denied him.

Three simple numbers, 1-4-0; they appeared to be as meaningless as his name in Deran’s phone.

The ink appeared sometime after they’d returned from Belize. By the time Adrian had seen it, it was already healed.

He was drawn to it instantly and found it easily; he knew every inch of that man’s gorgeous body.

Deran sat up over the end of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees, closing off Adrian’s access to his favorite piece. Adrian joined him, sitting close enough that their shoulders slightly brushed. He looked dumbly at his feet, afraid to say anymore than he already had.

Deran ran a hand through his clean hair making Adrian long to do the same; it was one of his other favorite ways to touch Deran.

“Why does it have to mean anything, can’t it _just_ be numbers?”

Adrian widened his eyes at Deran, giving him the _‘I’ll wait’_ look.

Deran rolled his eyes at him somewhat playfully as he shook his head, “You’re not gonna leave it alone are you?”

“Not a chance Cody!” he said adding a wink of the eye.

Deran took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, refusing to make eye contact with him.

“What if—what if I told you I got it for us—for you...”

Adrian frowned with a questioning face. He couldn’t decide what perplexed him more, that Deran almost made them an _us_ or that he got a tattoo _for_ him.

He decided to focus on the latter, “Well that still doesn’t answer my question.”

“Dick.”

“You’d like that right about now,” Adrian teased.

That comment got Adrian knocked to his back against the mattress while Deran straddled him between his thighs.

Adrian reached for his ribs, landing on his favorite piece.

“Adrian,” Deran warned.

Adrian pushed himself up so that Deran was sitting on his lap. Blue clung to blue while they fought internally for dominance.

Giving in, somewhat, Deran countered, “Okay Dolan, but _I’m_ not telling you, you look it up for yourself and we _never_ speak of it again, deal?”

Adrian raised his eyebrows in question, _but_ curiosity killed the cat, so he grabbed his laptop and went to work.

Deran stopped him briefly with a glare, _Oh_ “Yeah yeah, deal.”

He watched Deran move to the open window and light a cigarette, he obviously didn’t want to be involved in the research.

He typed in the three digits and soon found himself looking through a page titled ‘Angel Number.’

Adrian moved the cursor down while reading all about the symbolism and meaning behind the number 140.

There was a lot to absorb so he tired to take note of the most prominent ones:

_‘Those who identify with the number 140 are generally in search of constant happiness, give all to the person they truly want for life, are reserved but sociable (easily make friends), they’re loyal and know how to solve problems, but difficult to change on and emotional level, have a difficult time with balance, as well as loving destruction of each person.’_

_Damn_.

Adrian couldn’t have picked a more ‘Deran’ tattoo if he tried. He was completely taken back by all of this.

If Deran said he got this tattoo _for_ Adrian, did that mean _he_ was the person Deran wanted for life?

Deran was causing him a headache for the second time today; maybe he should’ve just left it alone and let Deran fuck him like he’d wanted to.

Now those three little numbers were _all_ Adrian could think about, though he wasn’t allowed to inquire further on them; after all, a deal was a deal. _Dammit._

Sighing to himself, Adrian closed the laptop and pushed it back to the side as he flopped onto his bed.

**-Deran-**

He stubbed out the last of his smoke on the windowsill and tossed it out. When he turned around, he saw that Adrian had a hand covering his face as he laid on the bed.

Deran chuckled to himself. He could see Adrian’s whole body was tensed and he was internally debating what to do with the information he’d just obtained.

He decided to join him in his misery, matching Adrian’s before position as he laid on his side close to him.

He saw Adrian visibly struggling not to blurt out the million questions Deran was sure he had.

Not able to keep it in any longer, Adrian blurted out, “Der, you’re _killing_ me, just tell me _one_ thing and I swear I’ll leave it alone after that!”

Deran gave him a cocky smile, “A deal’s a deal Dolan.”

Adrian threw his head back and sighed dramatically like a child who’d just lost video game privileges.

This sent Deran into a fit of laughter as he shifted his body to mount Adrian again. Adrian tried to wrestle him off, he was bigger but Deran was wiry and marginally stronger. He gave up after several worthy but ultimately failed attempts and gave Deran his win.

Deran’s eyes were radiating towards Adrian’s darker ones, letting each other know they were done playing games—for now.

Deran reached for Adrian’s hands and brought them to either of his sides, giving him permission once more.

Adrian crept his fingers up and down, making sure to apply pressure as he went. Deran eased into the touch letting Adrian mark him tenderly.

He would never admit it, but _this_ , Adrian running his hands up and down his body while leaving his imprint, was _it_ for him.

He would never deny sex of course, this just brought him to other places, safer places.

Deran was anxious in the quiet, yet calm in the storm.

The storm was Adrian and Deran anchored himself closely, letting him wash away _everything_ else.

**Author's Note:**

> I looked up the numbers 140 trying to find some kind of significance for the tattoo, and wow did I get taken down the rabbit hole!  
>  I have no idea why Jake himself got this tattoo, but the meaning behind the numbers was so fitting for Deran's character; I wanted to focus on one tattoo in particular and this ended up being the perfect choice.  
>  I have an idea for another part in this series...stay tuned.
> 
> As always thank you for reading, leave some kudos if you enjoyed (:
> 
> I take requests on here or tumblr, same username.


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